The best thing in life is not knowing how its going to end. This way, hope and love always find a path to struggle back in. As the years pass by, we are often engulfed in a quagmire with ourselves, amidst that whiff of a smoke and those beautiful laugh lines. They make us look older, also wiser, but do we care ? Our sense of right and wrong develops a smarter perspective, only to unfold the real us.
What a frivolous conundrum this life is.
It is strange, how our ideals shape themselves according to our comfort. Not everything right deed springs up an innocent smile, not every wrong deed weighs heavy on the conscience. I don't know why I am being a philosophical nerd here, but the irony of this fact is that there was a time when all that I'm writing right now would have put me to sleep in no time. Change. That, I suppose, is what I'm talking about, or atleast I'm trying to.
Change, has never really been my thing. I like routine, waking up to the sound of the same alarm tone everyday, running late for work. I let comfort settle a layer deep inside my skin. And when the situation demands to peel it off, I feel this infuriating pain that stings me at regular intervals.
Stories. Did you know, every man has a story to tell ? No matter how dark, no matter how twisty, there is always a story somewhere in that nondescript part of their brain, waiting to be told. Stories, that were woven with great precision, intertwined with an accurate dose of happiness and tears. They make them want to jog down the altar that leads to happy memories, memories that are stained with flaws, flaws that seem to be the closest possible entity to whats real.
Some, inherit the richness of time.
Some, fly away with that broken wing.
But then again, The best thing in life is not knowing how its going to end. Or rather, how your story is going to end.
